Hers | ✔ | (Editing)

24| Amaranthine

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A m a r a n t h i n e 

  /a-mə-ˈran(t)-thən/ 

(adj.) undying, immortal, eternally beautiful.

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She was beautifully out of place,

Sometimes I believe she intended to be like the moon during the day. 

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He noticed.

He noticed on how she distanced herself from him, on how their kisses (Which they barely had anymore because they were never alone) were too short for his liking. It's not even that he pulled back first, it was always her. No matter who initiated the kiss, she would always be the one to pull back first.

And Aaron didn't like it one bit.

He wanted her lips longer against his own, because how could he memorise her mouth when she only gave him 3 seconds to work with? Perhaps he could though, he could memorise the curves of her lips in 3 seconds, but he wanted to take it slow; to be gentle and careful.

And whenever he would be waiting for her at the entrance of the school, she'd look so queasy and anxious that it would make Aaron so confused.

Or maybe Aaron was just over thinking again, and making a big deal of nothing. And he thought that maybe it was just a phase.

But he couldn't push away the fear that sparked up in him, that maybe, she was already seeing the things he was afraid she would.

Or perhaps he was just being melodramatic again. Aaron tried to convince himself that he was.

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Maybe if Aaron was a different person, he would be as frightened. But he wasn't.

He was Aaron DeGarner: a lanky, 6'3, 17 year old boy with screw ups for parents and a fuck up for an elder brother - which inevitably made him a fuck up too.

Maybe if he had a different mindset, he would accept the fact fully that Rose wasn't just some girl to him. But he didn't. Because that's exactly what screw ups for parents do to you - they make you see the bad before the good.

And when that didn't exactly work out for Rose, he thought there was something wrong with her. That there was a wickedness lurking in her; swimming through her veins until it will unleash itself right in Aaron's chest. Oh how wrong he was. Instead, he fell in love with her.

And maybe if Aaron was braver, he'd tell her that. He'd tell her that he loved her more than he has ever loved anything in this world. That even if she didn't love him back, he would still love her just as much. But he wasn't. Aaron was a coward, and he was afraid. Afraid that if he told her, he'd scare her off.

Sometimes it would scare him too on how much he felt for Rose. The heart that he thought was frozen and impenetratable carried all his love for her on its shoulders, and even so, it still wasn't all. There was still so much more love than his heart could ever bear.

If he was another story, things might have been different.

If his chapters were half as interesting as his novellas, maybe things would've ended up differently.

If his epilogue was as intense as his climax, his sequel would have been different.

If his dust jacket was as sturdy as his hardcover, then Aaron would have never drowned in the cracks of his bedroom walls.